


After the Last Dance

by flaming_muse



Category: Glee
Genre: Episode Tag, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-11
Updated: 2011-05-11
Packaged: 2017-10-19 07:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last dance is over, and the boys go home.</p><p>Episode tag for 2x20 "Prom Queen"</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Last Dance

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Deutsch available: [After the Last Dance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8973757) by [Klaineship](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klaineship/pseuds/Klaineship)



When Kurt let Blaine in silently through the front door after the prom they found Finn awake and sprawled on the couch watching some movie on the TV. He was still in his tuxedo pants and shirt, his cummerbund, bow tie, and shoes long gone, and Blaine half-turned to Kurt to await the scathing comment about wardrobe maintenance that should have been coming. Instead, Kurt simply locked the door behind them, throwing the deadbolt with a firm and decisive click.

“Hey, guys,” Finn said with a smile. “I thought you’d be out for hours. How was the rest of prom? Is Quinn super pissed at me? She hasn’t texted me or anything.”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see her,” Kurt said. He’d had the same distant look in his eyes since they left the school, and although his back was straight and his expression composed he seemed to be moving on auto-pilot. He didn’t pull away from Blaine’s hand, but he barely twitched his fingers in return when Blaine squeezed them.

Finn shut of the television and got up off the couch. He noticed for the first time what Kurt was holding in his free hand. “Hey, what’s that? Wait, were _you_ voted Prom King? That’s aweso- “ His excitement drained away as he took in Kurt’s face and Blaine’s head shake. “ - not what happened.”

“No,” Kurt told him. He pulled away from Blaine and very deliberately set down down the sceptre on a nearby table.

“What happened?” Finn asked. When he repeated himself, his wariness started to be replaced by anger. “What _happened_? Blaine?”

Blaine swallowed against the lump in his throat and wished he didn’t have to say the words. He wished he didn’t have to say them at all, but especially not in front of Kurt and rub any more salt in that wound. He took a deep breath and said, “Kurt was voted Prom Queen.”

“ _What_?” Blaine realized that it had probably been good that Finn had already been removed from the Prom before the revelation, otherwise he would have been suspended outright for trying to fight the entire school on Kurt’s behalf.

“You are looking at the McKinley High 2011 Junior Prom Queen,” Kurt said. The crown joined the sceptre on the table, and Blaine could see Kurt’s hand shaking as he let it go. Meeting Finn’s eyes at last, Kurt bobbed a little curtsy. It might have been ironic, but it was still perfect.

“Are you kidding me? Tell me you are kidding me.”

“No,” Blaine said. “Kurt was officially named Prom Queen by Principal Figgins.”

“And then what?”

Blaine’s voice was rough with fierce pride and fury on Kurt’s behalf. “And then Kurt fucking _rocked_ it.”

Kurt looked over at him, startled. “I ran out of the room, Blaine.”

“And then you went back in and owned that crown,” Blaine told him. He still couldn’t believe it; Kurt _went back_. His strength took Blaine’s breath away. This time when he took Kurt’s hand Kurt squeezed back.

“Man, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, Kurt.” Finn gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder. “That’s not cool. Really not cool.”

Kurt shrugged, and his face crumpled just a bit around the edges. “I was stupid to think the night could have turned out otherwise.”

Both Finn and Blaine frowned at him, but Kurt simply stepped back. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to change my outfit before the wrinkles set permanently.” He turned, kilt swirling, and went upstairs without waiting for an answer.

“Is he okay?” Finn said to Blaine as they heard the door close to Kurt’s room.

“What do you think?”

Finn nodded, pacing a little, like he had energy to burn. If he was half as angry as Blaine was, he had plenty. “I’m really sorry I wasn’t there, dude. That _sucks_.”

“I’m not sure it would have made much of a difference if you had been,” Blaine told him with a sigh. “He still had to get up on that stage alone.”

Finn shook his head, looking shell-shocked. Blaine knew just how he felt; he’d lived through it, and he was still at a loss. “I can’t believe they did that.”

“I can,” Blaine said. “I just wish I couldn’t.”

“Yeah.” They stood there for a moment, looking up the stairs and pretending not to be listening for any noises of distress. “So, who won Prom King?” Finn asked, clearly trying for lightness.

Blaine laughed without much humor. “Karofsky.”

“Really? Wow. That must have been weird, the two of them. Did he give Kurt any crap?”

“Not really, but let’s just say that the King and Queen’s dance didn’t go as planned.”

“Shit. Yeah, no way Karofsky would dance with Kurt.”

Blaine shrugged, because he knew way more about why Karofsky had issues with Kurt than Finn did. And he knew in his heart that at least part of Karofsky wanted to have danced with Kurt all night long. Blaine felt so sorry for him that he couldn’t even bring himself to be jealous.

“So what happened?” Finn asked. “Did they just call off the dance? That must have been super awkward.”

“I stepped in,” Blaine said. “I danced with Kurt.” His heart began to pound as he thought of it, and not just because it had been amazing to dance with Kurt and to be able to be there for him but also because although he’d been focusing every bit of his attention he could on Kurt a part of him had been absolutely terrified of the target he’d placed on their backs by doing so. Not that it obviously hadn’t been there before.

Oblivious to the more sinister implications of Blaine’s actions, Finn beamed at him. “That’s awesome, dude. Really.” He clapped Blaine on the back and pulled him into a one-armed hug.

Blaine shrugged again and ducked his head.

“Besides, Kurt’s a great dancer,” Finn said. “Karofsky is missing out.”

Blaine laughed, maybe with an edge of hysteria, but it still felt good. “He sure is. And Kurt was incredible. Really just... incredible.”

Finn tilted his head and listened for a minute. “Look, my mom and Burt are asleep. You should go up there. See how Kurt is doing.”

“I thought Kurt might want some time alone,” Blaine said, eyeing the couch where he expected to spend the night. He’d planned on sleeping there after the prom, anyway, but he’d kind of expected to have a good night kiss - or a couple dozen - first. “He didn’t have a lot to say to me in the car.”

“I might not know a lot about dudes,” Finn said, “or chicks, really, but I do know if someone you care about is hurting you don’t leave them alone. Right?”

Blaine ran a hand over his face and nodded. He realized he must really be upset, himself, if he had to take relationship advice from Finn. “Right,” he said, taking off his tuxedo jacket and draping it over the back of a chair. “Thanks.”

Finn patted him on the back again and dropped back onto the couch as Blaine quietly climbed the stairs. He knocked softly on Kurt’s door, cracking it open an inch.

“Kurt?” he called.

“Come in.” Kurt was sitting at his dressing table in a slim blue-grey t-shirt and a pair of what looked like grey cotton yoga pants. The fabric skimmed his body in a soft caress and made him look touchable instead of as the perfect fashion plate he so often was in public. He was facing the mirror but didn’t seem to be looking at himself in it as he rubbed some sort of lotion into his skin.

“Hey.” Blaine closed the door behind him, leaned back against it, and wondered what the hell he was supposed to do or say. It was nothing like how he’d imagined a post-prom visit to Kurt’s room might go. Those fantasies all seemed so ridiculous after what reality had been.

After what felt like forever, Kurt turned toward him, setting his hands in his lap and straightening his spine. “I’m not going to apologize,” he said, his eyes fixed somewhere around Blaine’s ear. “I feel like I should, but I’m not.”

“No,” Blaine said, pushing away from the door. “No, don’t. You didn’t do anything.”

“Besides being willfully naive, no. And I know I pressured you into going, but I’m not sorry you were there with me.”

Blaine walked directly to him like he was being pulled by a string or the force of gravity and sank to his knees in front of Kurt. “I’m glad I was,” Blaine told him. He put his hands over Kurt’s. “You were amazing. You _are_ amazing.”

Kurt shrugged one shoulder, his mouth twisting in a way that told Blaine just how much emotion he was holding back. “I’m not going to let them take this away from us,” he said, gripping Blaine’s hands tightly.

“Like they could,” Blaine said, trying to smiling a little.

“They could,” Kurt said, looking into his eyes. Blaine felt like Kurt could see everything he was feeling: his affection, his pride, and his own deep fears. “But they’re not going to.”

Blaine swallowed hard. “No, they aren’t,” he promised. He’d faced one of his greatest fears tonight, and even though it hadn’t turned out the way he would have liked he was still far better off by being brave with and for Kurt. Blaine looked up at him and somehow managed to put voice to the words that had been running through his head for weeks. “I love you, Kurt.”

Kurt stared at him for a moment, clearly shocked. He closed his eyes, and when they opened they were shining with tears. “I love you, too,” he whispered, and then he started laughing and crying all at once, sliding off of the stool and into Blaine’s arms.

Things got hazy for a little while as Blaine murmured promises against Kurt’s lips and Kurt held him so tightly Blaine had trouble taking a full breath. They finally ended up with Blaine leaning against the side of Kurt’s bed with Kurt beside him in the curve of his arm. With a shuddering sigh, Kurt leaned his head on Blaine’s shoulder and relaxed as Blaine stroked along his arm and down his back. At another time, Blaine knew he would have been very distracted by the play of Kurt’s muscles beneath the soft fabric of his shirt. Instead, he was just so grateful to have him so close in a quiet, private moment.

“I’m not sorry we went,” Kurt said, his voice soft and thick with emotion. “But I wish it had gone differently.”

“I do, too,” Blaine said, and he shut his eyes and, imagining a perfect ballroom sparkling around them as he and Kurt danced all night in each other’s arms, tried to keep his own sadness in check while Kurt’s tears burned hot on his shoulder.


End file.
